The Soukyoku Chronicles: Of Hogwarts and Happiness
by justjoy
Summary: The Soukyoku. A sign of destruction, of punishment. But what happens when Rukia Kuchiki falls victim to it? The unexpected, that's what. -Slight Harry Potter crossover. Mild IchiRuki-


Disclaimer: I do not own _Bleach_, or _Harry Potter_, even though the latter only appears as a plot device for a change, refreshingly enough.

WARNING: Some use of swear words. Wait... who am I kidding? There's just one. But this shall remain here, and don't say I didn't warn you.

Author's Note: This story does not follow canon on either side. Examples of such anti-canon felonies are the change of the Triwizard's time, and the outcome of Rukia's execution. Enough said. On with the story, then.

* * *

Rukia Kuchiki was a fifth year at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

That was not to say that she'd studied there for five years, though. The Gryffindor had only entered Hogwarts in her third year. She couldn't remember anything of her life before that – her adoptive parents had taken her in after Rukia had woken up from a coma, and she had never been able to regain her memories of the times past.

Now, sitting near the roaring fireplace in the Common Room, Rukia let out a hiss of pain as her left shoulder began to throb dully, courtesy of a scar she had gotten in the same accident which had killed her parents, leaving her unconscious. Muttering a quick pain relief spell, she looked up surreptitiously to ensure that her friends and Housemates hadn't noticed it.

Rukia would _die_ before she let anyone see her being in pain. _Especially not my friends, _she thought.

_And speaking of said friends… _To Rukia's everlasting relief, they hadn't noticed, being engrossed in the golden egg Harry had received as a clue for the Second Task. Hermione was listening to the message it contained through Harry's memories, using the spare Pensieve Dumbledore had loaned them.

They had been able, after much argument, to decipher the first part of the riddle, but were at a total loss as to the second, which seemed to be in a foreign language.

_But come to think about that… _Rukia frowned. "Hermione, could you play that again – the second part?"

Looking curiously at the younger girl, Hermione waved her wand over the stone basin once, prompting it to replay the message.

Rukia sat back and listened. Then comprehension dawned.

Her eyes, which had drifted closed, flew open. She couldn't begin to understand why, but she understood the message, and quickly explained it to the Trio, translating it with ease.

Silence hung over the foursome as the Trio stared at Rukia in amazement.

Rukia herself felt confused.

_What the _hell _just happened?_

* * *

Rukia tossed and turned in her four-poster bed.

Eventually, after about two hours, she gave it up. She was too occupied with working out what had happened to even sit still, much less sleep.

Taking the Pensieve from Hermione's neat desk, Rukia tiptoed down to the Common Room, sitting down near the dying embers in the fireplace. The weak glow shone into the Pensieve, which was clear now since Hermione had taken Harry's memory out for "security purposes", as Ron put it.

_Well, I can use my own. _Rukia shrugged, extracting her memory of today's events as she had seen Hermione do earlier. She wasn't known as a genius for _nothing_, after all. When she came to Hogwarts, she mastered magic so easily that the teachers decided to move her up a year, into the Trio's class.

_To this day, though, I haven't figured out _why_ magic seemed to come so easily to me… _

Rukia shook herself, telling those thoughts to wait. She prodded the memory with her wand, and the message replayed itself. Unsurprisingly, she could still understand _every _word that was said, English or Japanese.

_That's what it is! _Rukia thought triumphantly. _But how to I know Japanese?_

_Have I… learned it before? Was it –_

Suddenly, Rukia crashed to the ground, clutching her head in pain.

* * *

In a dark alley, deep in the heart of Kurakara Town, a figure slumped against the wall.

Only a dim light from a nearby house shed light on his orange hair.

Ichigo Kurosaki looked up as the moonlight filtered through the rooftops.

His search for Rukia had been unsuccessful again. It was as it she had disappeared from the face of the earth…

_Well, she _was_ supposed to have, after the Soukyoku… _Ichigo shuddered, closing his eyes as the image he'd witnessed one full year ago flashed before his eyes yet again. The expression of Rukia's face – those violet eyes, now lifeless – the swish of the blade as it swung towards her – the scream –

Ichigo's reverie halted abruptly as he felt a distinct tug at the edge of his senses. It was something he hadn't felt in a long time; it felt like _Ru –_

He stamped that hope down before it could grow any further. His hopes had been dashed far too many times, too many times to count. It _wasn't_ going to happen again.

Ichigo was convinced that Rukia was alive – he _would _know if she wasn't, wouldn't he?

All he needed to do now was to find her.

_Easier said than done._

Ichigo looked up at the moon. It looked silvery tonight, almost white. It reminded him of Shirayuki, and he could almost imagine the pure white sword in front of him, glittering in the dim light.

Most of all, though, it reminded him of _Rukia._

_What was I thinking just now? Easier said than done?_

He looked up at the moon.

_I don't think so._

The trees in the alley barely moved as Ichigo disappeared.

* * *

A cry resounded in a room far away.

"Ichigo!"

She remembered everything now. _Everything._

Rukia Kuchiki, in full _shinigami _robes, straightened up and drew her sword.

With a wordless cry of rage, she grabbed her Firebolt, and flew out the window.

She was going to find Ichigo, and _nothing_ would stop her.

* * *

From two very different places, two people were headed towards one place, with one aim in mind.

Both wanted answers, and they wanted them _now._

* * *

As Rukia flew, robes flapping in the cold wind, she thought about the Soukyoku.

_So it didn't kill me, _she mused. _It just erased my memories, took away all my powers, and dumped me somewhere, unconscious._

"I can really _see _the great improvement," she muttered, hands tightening on the broom.

_Whoever – or _whatever _– was responsible for this is going to know what it means to cross Rukia Kuchiki. And, Kami-sama help them, Ichigo Kurosaki too._

For the first time in her life, Rukia Kuchiki hated Soul Society with a burning passion.

* * *

On a certain sidewalk in front of the Kurosaki Family Clinic, two black-robed figures appeared; one by broom, one by magic.

Both looked at each other for a split second.

"Rukia."

"Ichigo."

They approached each other slowly, even cautiously. A passerby might just think that they were to complete strangers, meeting for the first time.

Until one moment later, that is.

Ichigo's mouth twitched. "You haven't gotten any taller, midget!"

"Ichigo!" Rukia yelled, returning his comment with a glare and a punch. "You just _had_ to say that, didn't you?"

The accused grinned.

As the two _shinigami _began to trade punches, Rukia reflected on the fact that she had never realized how good being able to punch someone could feel.

* * *

Ichigo had, after the fight of course, insisted that Rukia take half of his power, since it was originally _hers _in the first place.

She accepted it on the condition that he took half of her new-found magic, too.

Both parties found this a satisfying compromise.

* * *

The next day, the inhabitants of Soul Society woke to utter chaos.

Security had been breached, and the Soukyoku – in fact, the Soukyoku Hill _itself_ – had been utterly destroyed, along with the Tower of Petinence and the Central Office of Forty-Six.

However, the culprits were never found, thanks to the foreign magic they had used in addition to _kido._

The Soukyoku was never used again.

* * *

In the real world, two people were bickering, as usual.

"Dream on, baka! I am _not_ sleeping in your closet again!"

"Then don't!" Said person shouted back. "I am _not_ giving up my bed!"

Neither person knew who threw the first punch, but very soon, the two started fighting _again._

And, interestingly enough, neither Rukia Kuchiki nor Ichigo Kurosaki had ever felt this happy in their lives ever before.

**THE END**

* * *

2nd Author's Note: Please do tell me if there are any problems with the _Bleach _part of the fic, especially stuff like characters and details. I'm pretty new to it :)

3rd Author's Note: You, my dear reader, might have noticed that this fic's name starts with "The Soukyoku Chronicles". Well, no promises, but it's part of my plan for a general story arc (if a bunch of one-shots _can _be considered an arc, that is) related to Rukia's execution by Soukyoku. How big this will become, however, is entirely up to reader response, so...

4th (and last) Author's Note: Review, please! I _always _reply reviews :D Suggestions, criticism, compliments, and complaints all welcome! The important part is that you press that little "review" button. Oh yeah, and the reviewer(s) who can correctly tell me where Rukia got that scar on her shoulder will get virtual cookies and a dedication in the next story! (Hopefully, that is bait enough for you to click that button!)


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